


aim.

by LightningRei



Category: Final Space (Cartoon)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 13:32:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14403177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightningRei/pseuds/LightningRei
Summary: Avocato teaches Little Cato how to shoot a gun.





	aim.

Little Cato slipped into his father's room, carefully surveying the corridor before entering entirely. He scanned the bedroom and looked atop the night table next to the bed. Crouching in front of it, he grabbed the knob to the drawer under it and pulled it open.

 

Bingo. His dad's handgun was right where he thought it'd be. He grabbed it out of the drawer, and closed it back running out of the room. It was a lot heavier than he'd expected, though light enough that it was easy for him to carry. Little Cato giddily left his dad's room, observing the gun excitedly. The end of his tail wrapped around the doorknob and pulled it shut as he walked away from it. 

 

He flipped the gun over a few times in his hands, trying to get a good look at it. He turned it so that the muzzle would face his eye, looking into the barrel of the gun. He couldn't tell exactly what fired out the ammo, but to him it looked like a plasmic energy generator. Turning the gun back on it's side, there was a dial on it. There were symbols indicating different settings and each one looked more intense than the last.

 

Little Cato properly held the gun in his hand, slightly waving it around with his wrist. He walked down the hallway, holding the gun up at eye level and pretended to shoot it, making “pchew!” sounds every time. Passing his own room, he stopped in front of the door to exist their flat, observing the gun once more. He lightly pulled down on the trigger, the gun humming loudly and a blue light starting to emit from the barrel. He immediately lifted his finger, the adrenaline pumping through his blood already. He lightly pulled down on the trigger again, hearing the same hum. He let go. Then pulled again, and let go, and pulled again, let go, pull, let go, pull. Then he fired a hole in the ceiling when the door opened up abruptly in front of him.

 

He shrieked and dropped the gun, waving his hands around frantically. 

 

“Dad! I'm so sorry- I didn't mean to shoot through the ceiling! I was just looking at your gun a-and it went off!”

 

Avocato stared up at the gaping hole in their ceiling now, debris falling down from it. He chuckled to himself a bit.

 

“This is one of the few times that I'm glad we're on the top floor. If we weren't, you probably would've killed someone.” He looked down at his son, gesturing for him to hand him the gun that was on the floor.

 

Little Cato tried to pick up the gun with the tail before his dad stopped him.

 

“Pick up the gun by the muzzle and hand it to me with the handle. Don't pick it up with your tail, it's just going to end up going to the trigger and you might end up shooting a hole in your own foot.”

 

He shivered at the thought of getting a laser hole right through his foot. He bent over and picked up the gun and gave it to his father, to which he placed it in a gun holster on his thigh.

 

“So how come you snuck out my gun today.”

 

Little Cato's ears drooped slightly, and his eyes averted his dad's gaze.

 

“I.. I was curious to see what it was like to hold one. I want to shoot one.”

 

“Then ask.”

 

“Huh?” His ears perked up, and he looked back up at his dad. He was hard to read, though he wasn't at all upset towards him at all.

 

“Just ask. I'm your dad… If you want me to teach you something - especially something I'm good at- just ask.”

 

Little Cato's ears twitched. “You'd really teach me how to shoot a gun?”

 

“Sure. As long as you don't shoot through the ceiling again.” Avocato said, starting to walk past him.

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“Onto the roof.”

 

“But.. we don't have a ladder to get up there.”

 

“I know. We're on the top floor of these flats though, I can easily just climb onto the top. These ceilings are low enough.”

 

Walking to the back of the flat where their living room/ kitchen is, Avocato crouched down and pointed to his back with his thumb.

 

Little Cato smiled widely and hopped onto his dad's back with all the weight he could, his hands on Avocato's shoulders and his feet on his back.

 

“Ough..! Agh, you did that on purpose didn't you.”

 

“Maybe…” He said, a devilish grin radiating from his face.

 

“Well. You're going to have to adjust yourself, because like that you might fall off of me.”

 

Little Cato shifted on his dad for a second before wrapping his arms around his neck and his legs around his torso, fake strangling him.

 

“Is this better?” He asked, trying to sound like he was struggling.

 

“Maybe.. not so tight!” Avocato said, acting like he was choking. 

 

Little Cato loosened up a bit and they both laughed.

 

Avocato opened up one of the windows, peeking his head out and looking up. The roof wasn’t too far up. He placed one foot on the ledge, stepping out of the window. He grabbed onto the edge of the roof, and shifted so that both of his feet were on the ledge of the window. He felt his son’s grip on his body get tighter from anxiety of the height. Firmly grabbing the edge of the roof with both his hands, Avocato jumped and pulled himself up, bringing up his legs and stepping on the surface. 

 

Once they were at a good place on the roof, Little Cato hopped off of his back, walking beside his dad. Avocato kneeled down, pulling the gun out of his holster and handed it to his son. He looked at the gun and back at his dad. He grabbed it and held it by the handle, observing it once again.

 

“Okay, now, hold it at eye level-”   
  
“I know that I know that!” Little Cato exclaimed, holding up the gun, both arms straight and the handgun right in the middle of his line of view.

 

“No, not like that.” 

 

Little Cato’s arms dropped and he looked at his dad. Avocato held his arms up for him, trying to position them as he explained. 

 

“Hold it straight with your right arm and leave your left a little lax. Hold the bottom of it with your left hand. Make sure that you use your right eye to aim, so it matches up with your arm. It helps with depth perception. Got it?”

 

He nodded and dropped his arms again.

 

“Right. But… What does this little dial do? I’m just wondering.” He asked, pointing to it on the gun. Avocato leaned over and looked at it for a quick second.

 

“Oh. It’s just different settings for the intensity of the blast. I love the normal setting though, it tends to stall and heat up a lot if I set it to be any higher.”

 

“What’s the highest setting like? ...Just wondering.”   
  
“It has a huge charge up and an extremely powerful laser. I’ve only used it once.  _ Never _ again.”

He looked at his son and smiled slightly. “You gonna shoot this gun or what though?”

 

Little Cato’s tail swayed out of excitement. He looked forward and raised the gun again. Avocato put his hands on his shoulders and steered him around, giving him a place to actually aim.

 

“You see that statue of the Lord Commander all the way over there?” He pointed at it. “I want you to shoot it, in his face. Anywhere on his face.”

 

“Won’t we get in trouble if they found out I shot it?” He asked, trying to find the perfect spot to shoot it.

 

“Naaah, they won’t. Go for it.”

 

“.....Alright!”

 

Little Cato trembled slightly with excitement and anxiety. Avocato glanced in his direction, waiting to shoot. He saw his son's finger tighten around the trigger.

 

“Shoot it whenever you're ready.”

 

Little Cato's arms laxed the second he pulled the trigger. It fired, and the recoil from the shot sent the gun to swing up, hitting him directly in the face. He yelled, falling backwards and dropping the gun.

 

“Are you okay?” Avocato asked, his voice filled with concern. He raised up Little Cato's upper body, who was holding his muzzle. He grunted but nodded. Avocato sighed in relief.

 

“Hey. Look over there,” He pointed in the distance. “You got that statue right in between his eyes. For your first shot, I'm proud.”

 

Little Cato's eyes lit up wide, really accepting that compliment.   


 

“I want to do that again!”


End file.
